


attention Craig Tucker's suitors: i'm your God and this is your Bible

by quiescentry



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, kenny makes up some bullshit get rich quick scheme: the fanfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 05:11:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14730587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiescentry/pseuds/quiescentry
Summary: Every time Kenny dies he gets to visit Heaven, but every so often he would drop down to Earth to roam the streets of South Park as a ghost.Then he gets out a notebook and pen and starts writing about Craig Tucker in the straightest way possible.





	attention Craig Tucker's suitors: i'm your God and this is your Bible

Kenny stretched out all of his ten translucent fingers in front of him. He tilted his head to get a better look at the mess behind him; a crushed metal heap had bent a streetlamp all funny with the shape of its own bumper, and underneath that was a bloody pile of broken bones and orange fabric.

  
"Car crash again?" A voice called out to him from above, deep and fatherly. "I thought that was kinda overdone, kid. No offence," He hurriedly tacked on to Kenny's amusement.

  
"Nah, none taken. I was thinking the same fuckin' thing. But I guess on a pain scale it's not as bad as the others," Kenny said truthfully, "Thanks, Jesus." He flashed a grin at the sky above him.

  
He smiled back at him kindly. "You know what kid, I'm feeling pretty nice today. Why don't you hop along the streets this time around, go and spook the townsfolk or somethin'. I figure you need to get back at people as a ghost so you won't have too much pent up teenage rage."

Kenny blinked.

  
This wasn't new; he was always free to roam the streets if he so wished, but he had always hung out around Heaven (for the tits) and even Hell (also for the tits) to pay Satan a visit every other time. It was baller as all fuck every single time - at one point dying was almost worth it if it meant Kenny could drown in chicks and games every 6 or so hours - but he possibly, maybe caused a bit too much of a ruckus each time. This was probably His way of telling Kenny that He was getting kind of tired of his visits.

  
And honestly? So was he.

  
No big deal.

  
"Huh, yeah. Sure. Haven't done that in a while, guess I could go to the liquor store and pick up some treats for my dad on the way home," Kenny said, and he could almost sense His relief.

  
"Alright, enjoy yourself, young man. You have until sunrise as usual!" He said, fading into the clouds, to go off and fuck around in Heaven or whatever.

  
Kenny stuffed his hands in his pockets and kicked at a stray pebble. Hmm. He looked down at his shoes, sighed, and began phasing through the crowd of wailing police cars and incompetent paramedics.

  
"Now," he whispered, "where to?"

  
\- 0 -

  
South Park wasn't small by any means - but it also wasn't very big. Growing up here had meant that Kenny knew where to go to get anything and where everyone else lived. Growing up here _poor_   meant that Kenny knew where every cobbled path and abandoned street started and ended.

  
In short, there was really nothing to explore.

  
Spying on everybody's parents? Been there, done that.  
Taking a walk in the deepest part of Stark Pond? Been there, done that.  
Watching your friends jack off? Been there, _definitely did do that._

  
There was really nothing else left he could do - his form was limited. He couldn't even interact with the physical plane if he'd tried - he could only watch and move on.

  
"Fuck meee," Kenny drawled with all the boredom he could muster. Thinking of stuff to do was really hard. He was wracking his brain so hard he didn't even realize he'd stepped (floated) into the Tucker territory.

  
Straight, immaculate, and dreadfully brown. Kind of like Craig, actually, except instead of just straight he's straight to the point, and instead of being dreadfully brown the guy's dreadfully blue. Though it's not really as though he knew Craig all that well - he'd hardly ever hung out with the guy. He'd never even bothered to take a look at his room because of that - guess that could warrant a check-in to see how he was doing.

  
"Excuse me," Kenny whispered, knocking on his window before phasing into his room.

  
It was blue like he thought, but a lot more cheerful than it was to be expected. Baseball players, Red Racer posters and polaroids of his guinea pig were tacked onto the walls, with green plastic stars filling in the spaces. His desk had half open notebooks on his homework (the english essay due next week) and little reminders scrawled into post it pads. The floor was clean, with only his jacket and bag thrown to the side.

  
It was lived in and comfy; it felt like home.

Well - at least to Craig, anyway.

  
Kenny turned his attention to the boy just then, whose chest was rising and falling, hands fisted into his galaxy print quilt. He looked different without his eyebrows and lips fixed into a permanent scowl-frown.

  
Then a playful smile began forming on his lips. The more the idea sank in in his head the more fun he had just thinking about it.

  
Kenny McCormick was going to ghost the FUCK out of Craig Tucker.

  
\- 0 -

  
Step 1: Die a quick, painless death.  
  
Step 2: Phase into the target's house.  
  
Step 3: Ghost (investigate) them. Find out everything about them - what they liked, what they hated, their aspirations... all of that!  
  
Step 4: Sell the information.  
  
Possible step 5: Basically become God's Best Matchmaker if you succeed in gathering enough information to sell to target's suitors.  
  
Kenny had to choke down his laughter as he wrote down the last of his plans. The more he thought about it the more perfect it seemed - he was a ghost no one could see and basically had access to everything the target would lay out for him, plus Craig had a LOT of suitors, so the amount of money he could make was gonna be fuckin' phenomenal if he could get out with the right information to sell to a bunch of hormonal teenagers.

  
_Get fuckin' ready to say sayonara to poverty, Karen!_   He could probably buy her enough teddy bears to build her a fort with the money - _haha, woah there McCormick! Better slow down with all these wild fantasies - you gotta start with the Nancy Drew-ing first._

  
"Kenny? Uh, Kenny."

  
Kenny's head snapped up to meet concerned, green eyes. Kyle.

  
"What the hell are you writing there? I called you like, five times, and you're always the most eager to check out of class to talk to me." Kyle tilted his head, arms crossed.

  
Kenny closed his notebook as casually as possible. "Dirty fanfiction," he began, leaning in close to Kyle, "about Cartman's thick, hot mother. Wanna read?" He waggled his finger, devilish smile on his face.

  
He stuffed the notebook into the deep crevices of his bag. Mental note to be more secretive about this shit: if Kyle 'Valedictorian' Broflovski found out about this Kenny is going to have to answer a lot of fucking questions. Thankfully, being raised by a family of upstanding morals, Kenny was as good at lying as Kyle was ready to trust in his friends.

  
Kyle jerked back, eyes narrowed. "Oh, gross! Hell no," he said, standing up straight, "I don't know why I thought you were studying, man. You almost had me there - you were so into it!"

  
"Haha, yeah - the world's gonna fall apart if Kenny ever does that and we're all still alive, so I think we're pretty good." Stan sauntered next to Kyle, an easy smile on his face. He pointed his thumb toward the door. "Wanna have lunch with us?"

  
Well - Kyle wasn't exactly _wrong_ , he _was_   studying. Just - not what the class was teaching. He wasn't going to say that though, so instead Kenny got out his paper bag and smiled back.

  
"Sure."

  
\- 0 -

 

ATTENTION CRAIG TUCKER'S SUITORS: i'm your god and this is your bible

Name: Craig Tucker / "that COOL guy" / "idiot in a chullo" / "asshole" / "piece of shit" 

Age: 16

Birthday: 25th January / aquarius (maybe do research on this too) 

Personality: your standard cool standoffish guy that everyone wets their panties for. probably nerds out at home lmao ( <\-- might have to try dying after school ends to find this out)

Likes: 

\- red racer (no fuckin surprise there) 

\- his guinea pig 

\- baseball guy??? (do research on this) 

\- probably nasa idk 

Dislikes: 

\- everyone who breathes in his general fuckin direction

\- everything that exists that isnt what i listed in the likes section

 

People who like Craig: Red / Tweek / Clyde (probably has the gayest crush out of all of them) / Bebe / Stan (homosexual rivalry?) 

find some time to ghost the rest of these people too. god i can almost drop out of school to do this lol 

 

**Author's Note:**

> yes i'm using the hs skin for the journal bits. its easier to differentiate anyway


End file.
